


and show me why you deserve to have it all

by intherubble



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: F/M, Genderfuck, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intherubble/pseuds/intherubble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genetics could go eat a dick as far as Harry is concerned. He just wishes he still had one. (written January 2012)</p>
            </blockquote>





	and show me why you deserve to have it all

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first fic I wrote in One Direction fandom back last January, so please excuse any characterizations that seem off currently. I just cleaned it up a bit to repost it here. Sorry it's not technically new fic!
> 
> The basis of this fic is a (vague) mutant AU in which there exists a gene that manifests in certain people giving them unique abilities or adaptations. It's not common but it's not rare either. That's all you need to know really.
> 
> Sort of also my ode to bisexuality in a way I guess.

Genetics could go eat a dick as far as Harry is concerned.

He just wishes he still had one.

-

Harry thought he had gotten lucky since he made it through puberty with nothing more than the occasional voice crack, that the gene had passed him over like it had his sister. Apparently he was just a late bloomer.

He supposes it could be worse. His Aunt Linda could talk to insects and who gives a shite about a cockroach’s inner monologue?

Harry decides having a set of tits to play with goes in the plus column.

-

He is a bit miffed that he seems to be shorter. He’s pretty sure that’s sexist...or something.

He debates calling his mum but doesn’t feel in the mood for a Serious Talk and might vomit if he hears the phrase _becoming a woman._

He pulls on an undershirt and a pair of boxers, frowning at the way they sag in the front, and heads for the kitchen.

“Hey Lou,” he calls as he walks up behind him. “Check ‘em out,” he lifts the front of his shirt with two hands and does the _Girls Gone Wild_ shimmy. Louis looks up from his Weetabix and raises his eyebrows, makes a _not bad_ face. And keeps eating. The lack of reaction is comforting in a way but Harry pouts, lowering his top, “Whatever. You want my lady lumps.”

-

He was hoping that maybe this would be a voluntary thing, like there’s a mental switch he can flick to turn it off and on but so far he can’t find it. He tries concentrating until his face turns purple and he runs out of air but Louis just says he looks like he’s trying to shite his pants and _would he like Louis to buy him diapers to go with the tampons he’s going to be needing?_

Harry solemnly informs him that it is Too Soon for period jokes.

-

The conversation with his mother isn’t as excruciating as he thought it was going to be. _Everyone’s power is different,_ she says _You need to listen to your body and it’ll let you know what’s changed._ He’s too afraid to ask if it’s going to be forever but she adds quietly _I've never heard of anyone changing permanently_.

He wants to spit _everyone’s different_ back at her in frustration but he just sighs into the phone and curls tighter around it on the couch, wishing she was there to stroke his head.

It’s a good thing Louis enjoys doing it so much.

-

The thing is, if he closes his eyes, he doesn’t feel _changed_. But looking in the mirror makes him think of someone popping the head off one of those god awful Harry Styles™ Dolls and shoving it onto an anatomically correct barbie. He’s just glad he looks less like Susan Boyle than his doll does.

He supposes his eyebrows might be more arched if no less thick, no Adam’s apple, chin less square. Harry stands in front of the bathroom sink running his fingers over his face as he catalogues the differences. Same mouth, same dimples. He wonders what it means that, as a woman, his face hasn’t changed that much. Is he a pretty guy or a handsome chick?

He winks at his reflection, “Both.”

-

His hair has also sprouted out to a curly mass that hits his shoulders. Where is it a law that girls need to have long hair? It’s bullshit.

He grumbles about taking a pair of scissors to it after a hair gets in his mouth for the third time as he tries to eat a ham sandwich while watching _Jeremy Kyle_.

“ _Nooo!_ ” Louis dramatically tackles him around the knees before he’s gotten two steps away from the couch. Harry rolls over, unamused, and props himself up on his elbows.

“Yes, Louis,” he says slowly, “What was it you wanted?”

“You can’t cut your hair, Hazza!” Louis shakes his legs in time with his whine.

“Oh really?” Louis nods and Harry waves a finger in his face, “You don’t own me. It’s my body and I’ll do what I want. You’re not even my real mom.” He snaps in a Z-shape

Louis gives him his brightest smile, “Well...what if you’re like Samson? What if you can’t sing if you cut your hair off?”

Harry knows Louis is taking the piss but it’s like an icy punch in the sternum. _What if he can’t sing?_ It had just been him and Louis and the apartment all day and he’d mulishly pushed aside the thought of calling management in the hope this would be like a 24 hour bug. But what if it wasn’t? He didn’t _think_ he sounded that different. But what if his singing voice was all high and pitchy and it conflicted with the others’? How could he be in a _boy_ band when he was in a girl's body? Would there be a homophobic backlash if he kept singing about girls? Would they kick him-

“ _Hey_.” Louis says sharply, pinching his calf, then softly, “Calm down, it’ll be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Harry shoots back. “You’re not the one who has to pee sitting down now.”

“I’ll start if you want.” Louis pulls a shit eating grin, “We can get all the lads in on it, like when people shave their heads for a friend who has cancer.”

Harry cracks a smile against his will, “Twat.” Louis scrunches his nose at him, drops a kiss on his knee before turning it into a raspberry.

Harry debates trying not to knee him in the face as he struggles away from the tickle but Louis pulls back after a second and makes a face. “Hairy legs are really not sexy on a girl.”

Harry makes an affronted noise, catches Louis in the cheek with his foot and pushes him away. “ _Fuck you_. I am a liberated woman.”

-

He thinks about his mom saying _listen to your body_ and doesn't cut his hair. The real reason Louis didn't want him to becomes quickly apparent though and Harry makes him drive them to the nearest Jack Wills so he can buy bras. In return Louis can bury his hands and tug on Harry’s curls as much as he wants.

Harry’s a bit hesitant about going out of the house as he is but his tits are starting to make his back hurt and he still doesn't know how long this will last. Hopefully anyone who sees him with Louis won’t jump to the right conclusion immediately. He puts on his least recognizable sweatshirt and grabs a pair of big sunglasses just in case. He wears jeans. Now that Louis said something about it he’s oddly self-conscious about the hair on his legs. Which is stupid.

He thinks about asking Louis for one of his wide necked striped shirts as revenge. He could say he wants it because it would be more feminine but really he knows if anyone recognized Louis shopping with a mystery girl, who was wearing one of his trademark sailor shirts, the tabloids would be all over it.

He has his mouth half open to ask before he decides against it. He’d feel like an arse making Eleanor have to deal with cheating rumors. It would serve Louis right though.

-

“So when are you going to tell the rest of the lads?” Louis is obviously more comfortable in the women’s underwear section of a store than most blokes are. Harry’s not sure if it’s because of the little sisters or more likely just because it’s Louis.

Harry hums, pawing through a pile of floral panties. “Tonight I guess?” They had begged off going to Zayn's to play X-Box earlier but Harry doesn't see the point in drawing it out any longer. “Maybe I could find a One Direction t-shirt somewhere and you can tell them you've seen the light and’ve started dating a fan. That it was love at first ear piercing scream and I can spend the rest of the night trying to steal a lock of Liam’s hair.”

“Harry,” Louis sighs. He is apparently attempting to be serious while trying to fumble the catch of a striped bra closed behind his back, “They’re going to know it’s you.”

"Having trouble there?" Harry interrupts. Louis pauses flailing about, gives him a lewd grin, says, "I don't have any practice putting them on..." and Harry tries to talk over him _really that’s the best you could come up with, I’m dissapoin_ -“...only taking them off,” Louis finishes and nudges him with his elbow anyway. “Do you get it Harry? Did you get my joke? It was about how great I am with the ladies.”

Harry picks out a few bras that match pairs of boxers he already has and the underwear that goes with them. He takes some comfort in the fact they’re called boypants.

“As I was saying,” Louis resorts to doing the clasp in the front and sliding the bra around after, “it’ll be obvious to anyone who _knows_ you. You’re not actually a different person, you’re still _you_.” Harry is oddly touched so he decides to help Louis stuff pairs of underwear into the bra cups. “And anyway you totally already have like five shirts of my face. I know you use them as jizz rags, young Harold.”

Harry pinches the bra where Louis’ nipple should be, “guilty.”

-

The Big Reveal ends up not really being a big deal.

Harry and Louis get Chinese take out for the five of them and bring it Niall’s to watch DVDs. They use their key to the apartment and Harry almost forgets they’re supposed to be having a dramatic moment, just walks to the kitchen and goes about divvying up the food. Lumps extra rice and dumplings onto Niall’s plate.

It’s the eerie calm that reminds him he was supposed to be making an Announcement. He glances up and Liam is quietly standing on the other side of the kitchen island from him looking bemused. They hold eye contact for a moment; Harry spreads his hands out, _ta-da!,_ and Liam shrugs. He can see Louis shooting him a pleased grin from where he's perched on the counter. Zayn comes up behind Liam, hooking his chin over his shoulder, and gives Harry a once over.

Zayn wolf-whistles and Harry does his best scandalized facial expression. "Looking good, babes."

“You cad!” Harry waves a hand at him demurely but then picks up a knife, “I’m castrating the first person who calls me Harriett.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Liam promises, grabbing a plate the same time Niall comes jogging out of his room towards the kitchen.

“Whats the hold up lads? Where’s the foo-” he catches sight of Harry, must try to stop short but his socked feet go sliding out from under him on the hardwood and he ends up careening into a barstool. They both go down with a crash.

“... Ow.” Niall says meekly from his back.

“Thank you, finally!” Harry cheers over the others’ snorting laughter. “An actual fucking reaction!”

-

Halfway through the movie Louis yawns dramatically and slips his arm around Harry’s shoulder because he seems determined to try every cliché move now he has a girl to use them on with impunity. Harry wants to tell him he's _not that kind of girl_ or something stupid like that but it's been too stressful of a day and just leans into it instead.

Niall had been acting shifty ever since he recovered from his fall and had yet to look Harry in the face. He could practically _hear_ Niall’s eyes moving between the TV and where he’s curled into Louis’ side. Harry lets a breath out his nose, picks his feet off the ground and onto the couch so he can wiggle them under Niall’s thigh.

Niall’s Adam’s apple bobs.

He doesn’t realize he’s been jiggling his foot along to the soundtrack until Niall’s hand is suddenly gripping his ankle, stopping the movement. He still doesn't _look_ at Harry though and Harry’s starting to get annoyed, twitches his foot in irritation.

Niall’s thumb sweeps across his ankle, tracing the hollow around the bone. Harry watches it happen and is suddenly struck by how _big_ Niall’s hand seems on top of his now delicate looking ankle. Imagines Niall could wrap his fingers all the way around if he tried. Tug him about.

Niall’s eyes are still determinedly fixed on the screen. Harry thinks he either doesn't realize what he’s doing or is trying very hard to _seem_ like he doesn't.

But it feels nice so Harry snuffles into Louis’ shoulder and lazes in the warmth he feels inside and around him.

-

Harry comes back from a bathroom break while the others play _MW3_ , “...did you know vaginas are really weird?”

Niall spits up soda.

Harry’s not sure he meant to turn this into a conversation but Zayn pauses the game. Liam smacks Niall on the back but he keeps choking. Harry shrugs and flops onto the couch. “Like, it keeps getting my boxers all sticky."

Zayn makes a considering face, “Maybe it just means you’re horny.”

“Did you know the actually plural of vagina is vaginae?” Liam doesn’t look look up from his phone as he says it and Harry sticks his tongue out at him.

“Isn’t that a fun fact,” Louis placates and Harry counters, “Yeah but I’m horny all the time so that’d be really inconvenient.”

Niall is just regaining his breath but he’s all bright red and winded. “Maybe you should try wearing the girl underwear,” Louis offers, “they’re probably different for a reason.”

“So if you’re horny all the time,” Zayn unpauses the game poking his tongue between his lips as he fires off a shot, “have you diddled the skittle yet?”

Harry frowns and Louis comes to his defense, “That is a lady you’re talking to, Wayne Wazik!”

Harry hadn't really _investigated_ yet because it was still too weird. It felt creepy like this was some girl’s body and he’d be touching it without permission. “Actually not yet,” Harry shrugs, rolling over, “maybe I’ll try the ol’ finger bang tonight.”

On screen Niall’s character steps on a landmine and explodes.

-

Harry hangs back when Liam and Zayn head back to their apartments and nudges Louis to go as well, finds Niall tidying the kitchen. He must catch him off guard cause his shoulders jump and he lets out a little sound when, standing in the doorway, Harry says, “You’re totally freaking out, aren’t you?”

Niall glances around, caught out, “A bit, yeah.” Harry thinks maybe it’s good someone is freaking out for him so he doesn't have to. “Sorry, I’m probably not helping,” Niall apologizes.

Harry tugs at one of his curls, lets it spring back into place, “You could look at me, ya' know.” Nialls eyes snap to him and he grins smally, redness creeping around his collar.

“S’just trying not to stare.” Niall shoves his hands into his pockets. Harry watches him lower his eyes back to the floor and worry his bottom lip between his teeth, feels a fondness unfolding inside him.

“Well you should get used to it,” Harry says suddenly bitter and Niall frowns at him. “God knows if it’s going away.”

Niall tilts his head to the side, reasons, “I mean, if you can’t change back, not really a power then innit?” Harry hadn't thought about it like that.  It sounded logical.

“You know you’re secretly my favorite, right?” He bats is eyelashes.

Nialls pushes him towards the door, “Fuck _off_.”

-

Harry had always wondered what a lady boner felt like. Well he’s pretty sure he knows what it feels like from the other end. But this is different.

He's sat on a bench in the small park by their apartments watching Louis and Niall fuck around with a football, shirts tucked into their back pockets. They juggle it back and forth and when Niall glances Harry's way, missing the pass, Louis lets out a yell and tackles him to the grass. They roll around, Niall laughing brightly, grappling for control.

Louis gets Niall onto his back with a hoot and Harry can see the way Niall’s chest is heaving in exertion, his neck tipped back still laughing so his throat bobs. The vee of his hips that disappears into his trousers, the concave dip under his ribs. He gets a flash of himself in Louis’ position, thinks about what it would feel like to slot the hollow between his legs against the bulge in Niall’s pants, circle his hips. Harry imagines this must be what a punch in the uterus feels like. Heat surges low in his stomach and he twists his thighs together against the feeling. Well that’s new.

-

Harry wonders if he’s supposed to think about sex any less now that he’s a girl. Aren't girls supposed to be less preoccupied with it or something? If so he makes a terrible girl.

He definitely doesn't think about sex any less but it’s different now somehow, like his body is more confident about what he wants than his mind is. He still stares after a girl’s legs in a short skirt if one walks by but he’ll find himself watching the line of Zayn’s spine when he’s shirtless or thinking about the size of Louis’ arms when Louis hugs him. It’s not that much of a change but he catches himself doing it more, flushing hot when he realizes he’s been watching Niall enough to be considered creepy.

He wonders if he should become a lesbian now. Is that how it works? He’s definitely not against the idea but he’s not sure how to go about having sex with a girl now that he doesn't have a penis. Whether he changed back or not, being celibate for the rest of his life was not something he was willing to consider.

-

They meet up with Zayn and Liam in the complex’s gym later, he maybe pushes himself harder than is necessary to prove to himself he’s just as strong in this body. Can still be manly despite the curves he’s got now.

But when Niall finishes with the bench press, his shirt sweat-slicked to his back and red cheeked, Harry wonders if it’s what he looks like when he jerks one out. He knows what all four of them sound like when they try to sneak a toss at night, such close living between the five of them means he can’t _not_. Knows Niall tries the hardest, desperately it seems like, not to make a sound but still lets out these telltale little bit off whines. Harry usually presses his hips into the mattress in sympathy when he hears it. But it’s never something he’d thought he’d want to _watch_ before.

Niall says he’s going for a shower and Harry yells, “ _Don’t wank too long or you’ll get pruny!_ ” after him just to be a dick but can’t decide if he’s gratified or turned on when Niall blushes guiltily.

-

It would probably be easier to figure out this whole having vagina thing if he could see it. But laying on his back looking between his (awesome) tits and it’s like looking over the edge of the world down there.

He takes it slow, learns what it feels like from this end, amazed by his own body, the way it moistens for the touch. Feels around a bit for what makes his toes curl, flexes into his own hand... and _Oh_. Finally understands why girls are always going on about clitorises.

-

Harry thinks he’s discovered the best part of being a girl when, after he’s come for the first time, lazily tracing though the slickness it’s produced, his fingers trip over his clit and he goes shivery hot. It’s hypersensitive but not in a painful way like his dick would get and he realizes he could probably go again... like _right now_.

-

After he brings himself off for what he’s pretty sure is the fourth time, he decides it’s about time to start the day, surprised he’s been allowed this much of a lay in already. He rolls out of bed onto wobbly legs that feel like jelly, gets goosebumps at the feel of the fresh knickers he pulls on. He knows his nipples are showing through his undershirt, allows himself a mental congratulations on his first pair of headlights.

He can hear that everyone is over from down the hall before he sees them, bowls and boxes of cereal spread out over the coffee table, the X-Box clicking and humming softly in the background.

“Morning Hazza,” Louis calls, “the earth says hello!” Louis has taken to calling him exclusively Hazza, claiming that since it ends with an 'a' it’s more feminine. Harry climbs over the back of the couch to settle down between Zayn and Louis, grabs at a random cereal bowl.

Zayn’s nose wrinkles and his upper lip curls, “You stink like sex.”

Harry smiles pleasantly. “Well that makes sense,” he dances his eyebrows and wiggles his fingers towards Zayn’s face. He’s just cum his brains out and is too blissed out for modesty. Zayn looks confused, face scrunching, then horrified and jerks his head back.

“Aw yeah, masturbation.” Louis puts his hand in the air for a high five but when Harry goes for it he pulls it back to smooth out his hair at the last second, “Psyche. Lord knows what that hand was just doing.”

Liam laughs, “I think we actually have a pretty good idea.”

Harry shrugs, slurps down some cereal, “Y’all are just intimidated by my feminine sexuality and jealous that vaginas can have multiple orgasms.”

“That doesn't seem fair...” Harry plans to ask Liam what exactly is fair about any of this, possibly try out the whole feminist rage thing, but is too distracted by the fact that Niall is actually there. His knuckles are white, wrapped around a controller, and is playing Call of Duty with a determination like Harry hadn't walked into the room and declared he was just fingering himself. What the _fuck_. Niall was supposed to pay attention when Harry acted like a twat no matter what. Harry was getting sick of this whole _pretending Harry is invisible thing_ Niall’s been pulling.

“Is ickle Niall upset I said _vagina_ again,” Harry croons but there’s a crueler edge to it than he intended. He thinks about taking it back but then doesn't want to. He’s trying to get used to this because it’s a _part_ of him now and it sucks that one of his best friends can barely look at him. Cause deep down he’s terrified that this is permanent and it’s _scary_ and no one seems to understand that and he thinks he wants to have sex with Niall and _fuck_. Liam and Zayn are suddenly very interested in their cereal.

Niall glances at him, mutters _no_ , looking wounded but Harry refuses to feel bad. “Just go take a shower, Harry.” Louis sounds disappointed of all things but _fuck that_ Harry’s not the one being emotionally constipated. He’s not stupid, he knows what it means when Niall acts like this around a girl, is even more upset that Niall could believe he wouldn't know him well enough to recognize it. Knows why Niall had a pillow on his lap after Harry let Louis goad him into a drunken performance of _You’re the One That I Want_ the night before. He’d worn a pair of Eleanor’s leggings and they’d used tables and chairs as carnival rides. Harry had barely been able to keep from laughing around one of Zayn’s cigarettes long enough for a sultry “ _Tell me about it, stud._ ” in Niall’s direction who immediately went beet red.

Maybe he isn't making it easy on Niall but nothing about this is easy for him either.

-

Harry stews over it as he showers. The others were right that he stank, a cloying heady scent that was probably best labeled _female arousal_ clung to him. If anything though the smell just made him want to go for another round.

They're strange, he thinks, orgasms in this body. He feels it all over in a way he doesn't think he used to, fingertips and thighs going oversensitive and shivery. But he can feel his body wringing at itself with this acute awareness of the space inside him, an emptiness that makes the orgasm feel almost hollow. Not exactly a thought he’s ever had before. Around the third time, he'd worked up the courage to try a finger _in_ and it was....good. Not like fireworks or earth-moving just... exciting in its illicit newness. But of course then he couldn’t help but wonder what a cock would be like. He’d never really thought about it from the other side but it didn't seem like it would _fit_. Would it hurt? Is he still physically a virgin in this body? Should he be this curious?

He had never really been grossed out by the thought of touching someone else’s dick, he had always just figured it was a product of his affinity for nudity in general. He and Louis had tugged each other off before, desperate times on tour and all that. But it was never something that had made him worry, question himself, it was just another part of their friendship that went unexamined. Uncomplicated, comfortable and _them_.

But this thing with Niall was different. He goes sour and wrong footed when Zayn asks Niall about some girl he met up the pub last week. Wants to kick Liam in the shin when he picks Niall up and carries him around. And he thinks he wants Niall dick. _Inside him_. He thinks he’s justified in freaking out a bit.

When he finishes with his shower he leaves the bathroom naked because this his own private domicile and he’ll be naked whenever he goddamn pleases. He’s disappointed when it’s just Louis sitting in the living room on the phone with Eleanor but makes sure to make a spectacle of himself regardless.

-

Louis leaves to spend the night at El’s and Harry hates the way Louis asks him if it’s okay, like he’s a child that needs to be looked after. Harry’s starting to feel caged though, he’s been advised to stay inside until management decides how to handle the situation but Harry doesn't want to be a _situation_.

He thinks about just wallowing in self pity for the night, maybe writing some Taylor Swift style songs or figuring out what type of porn he likes now. Texts Niall instead _come over. we can watch the match nd cudddle_ , buries his face in a couch pillow.

 _u sur?_ Harry scowls and texts back _dont b stupid_.

He may have ulterior motives, he may plan on having it out with Niall when he gets here, make him admit he has a boner for _Hazza_. But when Niall shows up at the door with a six-pack of Carling in one hand looking like a kicked puppy he doesn't think he'll have the heart to do it. Just smiles reassuringly and nods for him to come in.

Derby County football is the only sure thing to get Niall to relax. He cracks a beer and leans back into the couch, looking fully at ease around Harry for the first time since this whole fiasco started, Harry watches the tension unwind like a spring slowly recoiling. Harry just wants to go back to the easy arm slinging and invasions of personal space they've made a life of.

Harry sits closer to Niall on the couch than is probably necessary, seeing as no one else is there elbowing for space, and is happy Niall’s too busy cursing under his breath at the game to freak out about it. He wonders if there’s some secret girl signal he’s supposed to send out to get Niall to put his arm around him. He’d do it himself because he is a Liberated Woman but he wants to be the little spoon, dammit.

He starts to get surly about Niall not picking up his girl signals halfway through his third pint, takes a couple deep sloughs from it and lets out a burp from the depth of his stomach. Niall jerks his head towards him, maybe just realizing how close he is, and looks stunned. Niall doesn’t have a sister, maybe a girl’s never done that around him before.

Harry takes another pull from his beer and burps defiantly again, keeping his eyes on the game. Niall stares at him for a second longer and turns away. Then takes a deep breath in and belches loudly, Harry can feel the rumble in his chest, pressed close.

They’re both silent for a second but then Harry can’t help but snicker, then Niall starts laughing and Harry does too and then he realizes the sounds he’s making are _giggles_ , high and girlish, and Niall must too because he’s staring at him like he’s a sneezing kitten or something. Harry slaps a hand over his own mouth but can’t stop giggling and Niall is smiling at him with these squinting pleased eyes.

Their laughing dies to quiet hiccups but they’re still looking at each other, Niall’s eyes focus somewhere below Harry’s nose, leans in a bit and Harry thinks _this is it_ , whatever _this_ is. He goes hot all over, opens his mouth to say something reassuring, like it’s _okay_ , but the movement makes Niall snap his head back. He looks unmanned, like he doesn't know what to do with his hands for a minute, rubs them up and down his thighs, then grabs his beer and shakes it a little, the dregs sloshing around in the can. “Got any more?”

It’s a blatant try for an escape and Harry lets him take it, “Yeah, in the fridge.” He turns up the volume on the game to a painful level while Niall is gone, spitefully cheers on the inside when West Ham scores. Why is Niall being such a twat about this? Harry can see the indecision in him when he comes back with the beers, he eyes the armchair but must decide it would be too obvious of an avoidance so he sits back down next to Harry.

-

Derby County loses like they both knew they would. They’ve also run out of beer but Harry is happily tipsy.

Niall seems disgruntled by the loss but in a cursory way, like it’s a habit rather than a real emotional response. He’s ranting about some bad call, hands drawing patterns in the air. Harry hums in agreement, not really listening; he watches the postgame with eyes glazed over until he decides Niall’s griped enough. He nudges him in the side, pulls an exaggerated frown, “You gonna cry about it.” Niall just shrugs _maybe_ and starts in again on listing where their defense failed.

Harry pokes him in the side again, then tries to pinch him when Niall just swats his hand away. But Harry is locked into annoyance mode now and all phasers are set to _get a rise out of Niall_. He puts on his best brogue. “Ah, don’t worry about it mate you’ll get ‘em next season, like back in da' heyday wit’ Cloughie,” knowing Niall can’t resist it.

Niall lets out a gratifying bark of laughter, “Tosser.” And his hand is there again to counter Harry’s when it goes in for another pinch. Harry tries the other hand and Niall slaps that away too so he attempts a speed attack, trying to fake Niall out with bobbing and weaving, going up on his knees for leverage. Niall’s got this buzzed grin now, turns towards Harry to fight him off, grabbing at his wrists til he has one in each hand. Harry presses his height advantage but Niall’s got strength on his side and then they’re _wrestling_ , all elbows and legs flailing and Harry just feels so fucking _giddy_ with it. He just wants to rough Niall up, make him rumpled and flushed, make him stop being so fucking _careful_. He gets a handful of Niall’s hair, hears him _growl_ and then Harry is on his back. Niall looms over him, amusement in his eyes burning down to something else, pallid light from the TV casting them in half shadows.

They’re panting into each other’s faces and it’s one of those moments that hangs like a pendulum, Harry could laugh and Niall would too and tomorrow they’d say something about how drunk they were. But Harry can feel Niall _hard_ pressing into his hip and he’s not laughing. He swallows, eases his hands out from where Niall has them pinned to the armrest, moving like he’s taming a spooked animal, making sure Niall doesn't look away from him. His fingers find the first button of Niall’s fly and his eyes seem to get that much more intense, _Please know what you’re doing_. Harry’s not really sure he does but he’s sure he doesn't care.

Harry undoes each snap on Niall’s trousers individually, giving Niall time to bolt even though he doesn't think he could forgive him if he ran away now. Niall doesn't seem to be going anywhere though, just sort of blinks down at Harry with this awed expression, his chest heaving with each button. Harry gets a hand between Niall’s boxers and pants, smooths over the line of his cock. Something shifts in Niall then, like he finally realizes that this is happening. “ _Jesus_ ,” he murmurs dropping his head so their foreheads clunk together, lowering himself onto his elbows as Harry gets a feel for him.

Harry wets his lips, Niall’s mouth so close they’re sharing air, thick with the taste of lager. Having Niall over him like this, the weight of him in his hand, Harry feels feverish, runs is fingers through the hair at Niall’s navel, presses his thighs together. “Niall, you...,” Niall’s got a hold of Harry’s curls now, his hips pushing into Harry’s grip in tiny increments. “Niall you can...” Niall must get the hint cause his hand skirts down the side of Harry’s body, finding the patch at his hip where his tank meets his shorts, and works his hand under it and back up. Niall nudges his mouth down so their lips bump together, catching slightly, so he can swallow Harry’s whine when his hand finds its way under his bra. Niall gropes at his tit, rough, makes Harry twist up into it.

Niall’s hips jerk when Harry squeezes him, humps at the pressure. it makes heat simmer in Harry but he doesn't plan on having Niall cream his pants. Niall makes a pitiful noise when Harry’s hand leaves his dick and Harry can’t help but smirk, licking up into Niall’s mouth. Harry lifts his hips so he can shimmy his shorts down and off, wants to make sure there's no confusion about what he’s after, fisting at Niall’s waistband so he can push his trousers and boxers over his ass. Niall pulls back for a second, uncertain, like it should be a surprise Harry is easy. Harry grins at him dizzily, drags Niall’s head down to kiss him proper, settles him between his legs with a tiny nod.

Niall groans into Harry's mouth, his cock brushing against the curve of Harry’s stomach. Niall’s hand finds its way between Harry’s thighs, palming at Harry’s cunt. Harry’s knees come together around it, a spasm of arousal clenching him up, instinctively flexing into the heat of Niall’s hand. Niall seems to loose it when he feels how wet, _ready_ , Harry is for him. “Christ, Harry,” he huffs, face screwed up like he’s in pain, accent thick. Harry feels raw and over-hot, ruts against Niall’s wrist. Niall gets his other hand under the hem of Harry’s shirt, rucks it up so it’s under his armpits, tugging the cups of Harry’s bra down so his tits bounce over the top of them.

A finger crooks into him and curls _up_. Niall thumbs at his clit and Harry thinks he might cry from the feel of it. He balls his fists in the back of Niall’s shirt, keening slightly as Niall mouths over one of of his nipples, slips another finger into him. Harry would be embarrassed by the slick obvious sounds his body makes when Niall frigs him crudely but he’s too busy hiking one of his legs up the side of the couch for it.

-

Niall fingers Harry til he comes, body going taut then boneless, hands tangled in Niall’s collar unsure if he’s pushing him away or pulling him closer.

Niall presses kisses to the skin between Harry’s breasts. Harry watches him spread the evidence of Harry’s orgasm over his dick, Niall hisses a breath through his teeth, jacks his ruddy cock for a second, and Harry has this crazy moment of wonder. Jt’s going to be _inside_ him. Niall hunches over him. Shuffles up a bit and Harry’s throat catches when he feels the blunt head of Niall’s cock nudge his opening. Niall’s braced above him on one elbow, face buried in Harry’s neck, reaching down to guide himself so his dick snags at Harry. He stays there poised like he’s waiting for something, presses a kiss into the hollow of Harry’s collarbone and Harry realizes that if he shied out now Niall would _stop_.

Harry pets at the top of Niall’s hair, arches his hips down so Niall slides into him the barest amount, gets his legs hooked around Niall’s knees. Niall groans low in his throat then hes _pushing_ , pressing the space in Harry open and _back_. Harry’s eyes slip closed, thinks his face must look shocked and over wrought when Niall bottoms out inside him. He feels devastated by sensation, like there’s a pressure filling him to breaking. Niall stills, Harry thinks he’s trembling a bit, mutters a gravelly “shit, _shit_ ” when Harry tries to circle his hips.

Niall gets an arm under the arc of Harry’s back, grabs him by the meat of his arse and tips him up so his hips come off the cushion, Harry’s legs on his waist. He pulls out, snaps back in, pelvis connecting with Harry’s sharply. It knocks the air out of Harry’s lungs and he tries to breathe but Niall is _fucking_ him and he just _can’t_. Harry whines when Niall cants his hips into him again and again not giving Harry time to compose himself, like waves crashing over him while trying to find the surface.

He gets a hand buried in the wispy hairs at the back of Niall’s neck, tugs at him til he lets Harry suck on his tongue, mewling for it. Scrawls his other fingers through the sweat on Niall’s back. Moans “Niall, _Niall_ ” as Niall punches these desperate little sounds from him, he feels so fucking perfect like this. The sensation at his clit each time Niall screws into him makes these maddening tendrils of a building orgasm curl through his body.

Harry gets a hand braced against the arm of the couch so he can lever himself against Niall, get that last bit _more_ , “Please, _shit_ please.” He can feel it burning, tosses his head to the side, digs his teeth into the flesh at Niall’s elbow. And then he’s going off, keening high, his body’s clutch spasming around Niall’s cock. “Fu-” he can’t get the word out, body curling up defensively around Niall.

Niall goes almost feral with it after that, dicks into Harry with these greedy thrusts that bump Harry’s head against the armrest, fucks him into the couch. It makes Harry shivery with aftershocks, Niall’s mouth tagging sloppy-hot kisses on his cheek. Niall slams home one more time, Harry thinks he hears him choke out _Harry_ but Niall is spilling warm inside him, making him whimper.

-

Harry wants to laze like this, fucked out and content, for the rest of his life. They lay trading soft presses of mouths as the sweat cools and when Niall brushes Harry’s hair off his forehead, looking him in the eye with this dopey smile, it feels more intimate than anything else.

-

Eventually the feel of jizz between his thighs starts to feel gross more than anything else and Harry says something to Niall along those lines. Niall blushes up to his ears for some reason. Says “Here, hold on.” And goes to get up which Harry had really hoped wasn't part of his plan. Niall must forget that he’s just had sex with pretty much all of his clothes still on because, in his attempt to stand, his legs get caught up in his trousers around his knees and he almost goes toppling over the coffee table. Harry slaps a hand over his mouth, cracks up despite how adorable he finds Niall’s muttered, “Minor difficulty.”

Niall shucks his pants and pulls up his boxers so he’s decent, heads for the kitchen and comes back with a damp paper towel for Harry to clean up with. Harry comments on how much of a gentleman Niall is to distract from how exposed he feels, having him watch Harry wipe his cum away. Niall gnaws at his lower lip, it's pink and swollen and Harry wonders if it’s too soon for him to go again.

He tosses the towel over his shoulder, he’ll worry about it tomorrow, and starts to right his clothes. Niall sort of just stands there for a second fiddling with the hem of his t-shirt but when Harry settles he gets this serious expression, “Budge up.” Niall climbs back onto the couch with Harry, gets an arm around his waist to pull him close, looking all determined like he wants to do this right. Harry thinks about mentioning the fact he has a nice large bed one room over but Niall is tangling their ankles together and he decides he doesn’t really mind sleeping on the sofa.

Niall is snoring in a few minutes and Harry spares a moment to worry if he could get pregnant, then thinks having Niall’s little leprechaun baby wouldn't be the worst thing in the world.

-

Harry wakes up to the sounds of Louis’ failed attempt at quietly rounding up the beer cans strewn about. He manages to get his eyes open enough to glare, grumbles, “Go ‘way, still sleeping."

Louis gives him this shit eating grin as he grabs the last can, “Yes, ma’am.”

He’s hungover enough to let the ma’am slide, just stretches a bit and rolls over to nuzzle into Niall’s throat. He hopes Niall isn't going to wake up and do something stupid like freak out but Niall just stirs a bit and gathers Harry closer. _Hmmms_ contentedly.

-

When Niall leaves later he presses Harry against the door frame, kisses him like it's the end of the night on a first date.

-

Management calls a meeting that day, ushers them together into some boardroom to say they've decided to tell the media the band is taking a well deserved break from touring and press, leave the time frame open ended. Harry volunteers to quit the band, they could tell everyone he’s decided to try for a solo career, go back to school maybe, and the world would forget about him in two weeks. They could find a replacement. Zayn smacks Harry upside the head.

On the walk back to the parking lot Niall looks desperately like he wants to hold Harry’s hand and Harry deigns to let it happen.

-

That makes it their nearly unprecedented fifth day off in a row. The others seemed almost at a loss for what to do with themselves but Harry wouldn’t really know since he had told them to _fuck off kindly_ because he wanted to try sitting on Niall’s face.

He ends up not sitting on his face so much as Niall laying him out on his bed, getting Harry’s thigh over his shoulder, spreading him open with a hand pressing at his other knee. Goes down on Harry, mouths at the slick space between Harry’s legs. Harry rocks his hips into it helplessly, thinks that Niall is _good_ at it, dazed by how confident he seems and how wanton it makes Harry for some reason. When the hell was Niall eating girls out that Harry didn't know about.

-

They raid Niall’s fridge for leftovers, eat them in front of the TV in their underwear. Harry licks his fingers clean when he finishes then climbs on top of Niall, ditches his knickers in the process, uses his tongue to chase the taste of chicken spice out of Niall’s mouth, gets him hard with a hand in his boxers.

Harry bounces on Niall’s cock, window shades open, everything in sharp relief by daylight. His fingers curl low in Niall’s shirt, twist it up in his hands. Niall’s eyes are squinted, face mottled up red in pleasure, he makes Harry come with a thumb stroking where their bodies meet.

-

They hang out at Zayn’s apartment that night despite Harry’s protest that he’d rather just stay at Niall’s and keep having sex. Niall says he's going to have to buy new shirts the way Harry's pulling them out of shape, they look like when a fan gets a hold and security tries to usher them along.

When he comes back from the kitchen at one point and sees Niall absently rubbing a thumb over the red spot at his elbow where Harry's teeth left a mark it feelings like having the wind knocked from his chest with affection and there's something almost terrifying about it.

-

Harry decides to spend the night in his own bed because it’s not like he and Niall are dating. He does his best to ignore the hurt look Niall gives him when he says he’s going home with Louis, turns his head at the last second so Niall’s lips catch his cheek when he tries to kiss him goodnight.

-

Harry wakes up with the sun, needing a piss, then decides that a shag would be a great start to the day. But when he lets himself into Niall’s apartment and finds him asleep in the fetal position, curled around a pillow, his horniness melts to something more tender. It worries Harry a bit but he lifts the covers and climbs in, spoons up behind Niall, fitting their knees together.

-

He doesn't know how long he falls asleep for but when he comes to Niall is propped above him on his elbows, big goofy smile on his face, says, “You woke me up with that boner poking me in the back.”

Harry tries to say sorry through a yawn before he remembers _Wait I can’t get boners anymore._ But then he realizes his chest is looking pretty flat. He digs a hand under the covers, feels around and finds his restored cock and balls. “Oh sweet, merciful Jesus,” he crows, out of his head with relief. Niall huffs a laugh so Harry can feel his breath on his face, leaning in like he has every intention of kissing Harry.

Harry shirks away from it. “...I’m a guy again,” says it like he’s not really sure about it, almost a question. Niall freezes over him, light in his eyes shuttering closed.

“Yea, hooray and all that...” Niall says slowly, sounding more unsure than Harry did, “...and?”

“Well why would you want to kiss me if I’m a guy again?” Harry says in a rush, really regretting not just letting Niall kiss him because he’d much rather be doing that right now than watching Niall recoil like he’s been slapped.

“You think I'd only like you when you’re a girl?” Niall looks like he can’t really fathom what Harry’s problem is.

“No, of course I know you _like_ me-”

“So was it just that, what, you thought it’d be easy easy to use me for my cock cause I’m in love with you and you wanted to try out your new vagina?” Now Harry’s the one flinching at the sound of the word, stung by the regret in Niall’s voice when he says _in love_ , not expecting to hear that or for it to sound so betrayed.

“What, _no_ , I didn't know you’re... you love me. I just didn't think you’d still want to... you’d still want me when I turned back.” Harry doesn't know what he’s saying, wishes he could rewind the past two minutes, get that dejected look off Niall’s face.

“I told you I was sure you’d turn back, I wasn’t trying to take advantage of the situation then fuck all afterward, did you always just plan on giving me the boot?” Harry doesn't really have an answer for that, he hadn't thought ahead at all. Niall wasn't supposed to be _in love_ with him.

Harry’s finds it's getting harder to breath because Niall has been slowly but surely drawing away from him and Harry is scared of the way he’s sure he doesn't want him to do that, wants to make him _stop_ , but feels like he shouldn't. “Yea but I have a penis again which means if you still want … if we- that would make you...us,” he finishes lamely and wants to curl up and die at the look on Niall’s face.

“I was fully aware that it was you when I had sex with you, so nothings changed for me, but I guess it has for you,” he gets up after that, looks crestfallen, and hightails it out of his own apartment, leaving Harry there confused and wretched.

-

Harry decides it would be weird to just wait for Niall until he eventually has to come back so he goes home and crawls piteously into bed with Louis. He must have been half awake already because he immediately asks, “What’s wrong?” Pets Harry’s curls. Harry isn't crying but it’s a near thing. “Hey what’s wrong, looks like you got your dick back shouldn't we be celebrating? Throwing it a party?”

Harry muffles his face in Louis’ armpit, hopes it’ll some how hide the fact that he’s asking, “If I still want to make out with Niall does that make me gay?”

Louis keeps petting him, seems to think about it for a minute as Harry peers up from under his arm. “Well... does it have to be that definite? I don’t think you need to like _come out_ or anything. Just do whatever feels right, who cares what you call it.” Harry wants to believe it’s going to be that easy, that it could be that simple. “We could call you horansexual for now if you’d like,” Louis offers and Harry snorts, thinks he likes the sound of that.

They fall silent for a while then Harry says, "I kinda miss having mammary glands," like it's a secret and Louis giggles into his hair.

-

Harry knows Niall would hide at Liam’s, thinks about throwing rocks at the window or some other romantic shit, thinks Niall would like that, but decides to go with the standard doorbell instead. When Liam opens the door he doesn't look surprised to see Harry, just says something about seeing Danielle and edges his way out but not before whispering earnestly, “Do _not_ have sex in my bed.”

Niall’s in the other room, absently commenting on whatever nature program he and Liam had been watching. Harry sits down and Niall turns, realizing he isn't Liam, “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Harry responds and they watch goats hop around a cliff for a few minutes. “So,” Harry should probably get this over with, starts picking at the knees of his jeans, “so it might take me a little bit of time, and I don’t really understand how you're so okay with it, but I’m pretty certain that I....fancy you, and would like to keep kissing you, penis and all.”

Niall blinks at him, “You want to kiss my penis?”

Harry grins, the one that can make a crowd of girls swoon, “Well I do owe you.” Niall calls him a prat but doesn't pull away when Harry takes his hand and slots their fingers together. “Anyway I’m the one who’s already had sex with a man, you’re the one who’s gonna need to get used to it,” he wags his eyebrows, tries not to look too hopeful.

“Oh, am I?” Niall is smiling which has to be a good sign and Harry decides to risk kissing him. It’s slightly different now, he’s taller and his stubble catches against Niall’s, though the little sigh Niall lets out as their lips slide together makes the same warmth expand in Harry’s chest. “Hey,” he says softly, pulling back, “want to go fuck on Liam’s bed?” But he’s pretty sure he already knows the answer.

-

Harry turns back into a girl twenty eight days later and Louis solemnly asks him if it’s still too soon for period jokes.


End file.
